


Rocket Man

by Gallifreyalive



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallifreyalive/pseuds/Gallifreyalive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in the first half of series one, the doctor spends some time alone and meets an old face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rocket Man

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick river/doctor-y thing, with a homage to Mr. Bradbury.

It felt like an ordinary day in the TARDIS.  The Doctor ran around the console playfully, shouting to the Ponds,

_‘Where do you want to go, eh? What do you want to see today?’_

_‘Doctor, I’m tired’_ Amy retorted, whining

_‘We spent all night touring the top 10 must see planets for the intergalactic traveller and now I just want to sleep, even **if** it’s a bunk bed’_

_‘Sleep? Sleep!? Amelia pond, there is a whole universe out those doors, trillions of planets and stars, and you want to sleep?!’_

_‘Sorry doctor, I’ve gotta back her up on this, I’m wiped out’_ added Rory _. ‘Don’t you ever rest?’_

_‘NAH! There’s too much to do! We could visit Poosh- glamorous even without a moon, or even go to Arbolem- planet of the treehouses! Did you know, that it’s said that no one’s touched the ground in Seven Millennia! Can you believe that!’_

Rory yawned ‘ _Sorry man, not all of us can be two-hearted aliens from the constellation Kastaborous_. _Goodnight_.’

Amy followed him toward their room.

The Doctor looked down at the console; morose for a second, until he, as always, reverted to his puppy-like state.

He twirled around the console, flipping levers and pushing buttons _. ‘Fine then!’_ he shouted, _‘I’m off to Yippland- the largest carnival this side of the Great Attractor- and you’re not invited!’_

Amy let out a chuckle, audible even from the console room.

 

~~~

 

As the Doctor pulled his sexy machine through the vortex, he hummed a song- a favourite of his and an old Earth classic.

_“Rocket Maaaan, burnin’ out his fuse up heeere alone._

_And I think it’s gonna be a long long time_

_‘Till touchdown brings me round again to find_

_I’m not the man they think I am at home_

_Oh no, no, no I’m a rocket Maaaaaaan…”_

 

He hummed

And then something happened.

He pondered.

Moments like this, with a lack of Ponds, were the breeding grounds for all sorts of thoughts.

He thought about his greed at keeping Amy, and not letting her leave and live her life, as he knew he ought to.

But he thought more widely as well.

The timelord thought about this long life he’d led- the secrets he held, the things he’d seen. Wondered whether it was worth the pain.

To leave Gallifrey, his home; to decide to interfere and not just observe; to wander through space, with no grounded household.

He thought of the things he’d lost- of leaving Rose on the beach, and Sarah Jane on that street corner.

He remembered something he used to say, forever ago.

_“That’s the curse of the timelords”_

But really, was there a curse, or was it all one? Was this whole homeless wrenched, lonely existence a curse? Could this life possibly be worth it?

 

But then he kept thinking.  Of all the love he’d shared, the people he’d saved.

And all those that had saved him; in one way or another.

He thought of Jack, and of Craig, mysterious Sally and splendid Donna.

He thought about River, and about Martha.

And he remembered.

He remembered the days filled with joy and sunlight, albeit that of a million alien suns.

Remembered how it felt to run and to fly through life.

And how it felt to love truly.

 

And his questions felt silly and trivial.

 

Because of course it was worth it. Every moment of hate, and fear, and living hell would be worth it for just one of pure, unadulterated bliss.

And oh, had he known bliss.

 

~~~

 

The TARDIS had landed somewhere. The Doctor did not know where. He’d let sexy go in the depths of his thought.  But if no one else, he had complete faith in his living machine. He walked slowly to the doors, a small smile starting to show. There could be anything on the other side of those doors. 900 years later, and the mystery never wore off. He pulled them open and a warm body fell atop his own. He toppled backwards, a mess of hair and fabric and skin hitting him full force. Soon after he hit the ground he rolled to the side, turning for a closer look at the one who’d fallen on him.

“ _Doctor Song, who else?”_

_“Hello Sweetie”_

 

Reclined in the TARDIS’s sitting room (one of thousands) the two doctors, of different types, found where they were.

_“Have we done the formation of earth’s sun?”_

_“Ooh, sweetie of course we have. That was just last week. How about the French Revolution? July Rebellion?”_

_“Not yet, and no spoilers! Even if it’s only One Day More ‘till we do.”_

_“Very funny sweetie, speaking of such, we done West End and Broadway yet?”_

_“When we saw 10 shows in 30 hours? Ah, yes what a day”_

_“Nothing compared to the night”_

_“Ah, professor, be careful.”_

_“As I recall, you didn’t follow that advice that evening”_

_“You’re not-“_

_“No… child raising is not optimal in our current situation.”_

_“I suppose not; we don’t want another psychopath raised to kill her husband”_

_“Though, you of all people must admit that that crazy comes in handy sometimes, if you know what I mean”_

_“River…”_ The Doctor groaned

 

_“So Doctor, what’s the plan today?_

_“I don’t know, I suppose it’s up to you.”_

_“How about Darillium? We could see the singing towers.”_

The Doctor’s face hardened. The gleeful expression he’d been wearing fell off.

 

“ _N- Not darillium, love… but uh- anywhere else…”_

 _“Fine, fine”_ River said, not questioning. She was sure the doctor knew more than her, and didn’t want to take a risk and fight him.

“ _How about we visit someone; in earth’s- in my earth’s past…”_

 _“Okay!_ ’ the Doctor’s false jovial air had returned. “ _how about an author?”_

_“sounds great. Let’s do a science fiction one, okay… they were the real prophets, y’know.”_

_“alrrrrright, science fiction writer from the past it is!”_ the Doctor exclaimed as he ran to the control room.

“ _How does… Ray Bradbury sound?”_ he shouted to river as he pulled a lever

“ _Fantastic, sweetie!”_

 

~~~

 

The TARDIS whirred to a halt in 1951.  As the doctor threw open the doors, the sight of a very cluttered office, and a man bent over a typewriter, keys clicking, registered.

 


End file.
